


dress-up games

by taoslefteyelid



Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Teasing, idk what else to say, if you know me irl do not read this, oh they’re also soft for each other, sehun wears a dress and Zitao fucks him bc he looks hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taoslefteyelid/pseuds/taoslefteyelid
Summary: Sehun buys himself a red dress and Zitao might just be going a little insane
Relationships: Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Oh Sehun
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	dress-up games

**Author's Note:**

> title sucks but I’m on my phone and I want to get this up before 2020 so here you go my last offering of the decade I love you all do well

Usually, Zitao is back home before Sehun is. 

Usually, that is, on days where three interns did  _ not _ sucessively fuck up, effectively putting the entire business on line. Usually, on days where that doesn’t happen, Zitao is home before Sehun is, in time to make them both dinner and do their laundry. 

But today is not a usual day, so when Zitao steps through the door of their house, Sehun is already there, grabbing his hand and dragging him up to their bedroom, barely giving Zitao time to set down his bag. 

“Hun-ah,” Zitao laughs, as Sehun hurriedly motions for him to sit in the armchair they have in the bedroom. “What’s going on?” 

That’s when he notices how nervous Sehun is. 

Sehun’s fidgeting, wringing his hands as he struggles to look at Zitao. 

“So- uh, I-” 

Sehun trails off, as if trying to figure out how to continue. Zitao leans forward in his chair, looking up at him. 

“Breathe,” Zitao says, making an attempt to calm Sehun down without knowing what’s working him up. 

Sehun nods, and his shoulders relax almost unconsciously. 

“The thing is- I got off work early today, right? And I needed a new white button down, because my backup-backup one has red wine stains on it now, so I stopped by Zara because it’s just a backup-backup, you know? So, when I was checking out- the button down, I mean-” 

“Sunshine,” Zitao says, reaching out to grab Sehun’s hand. Sehun, however, brings his hand up instead to chew on his nails. “You’re rambling. Is something wrong?” 

“No! No, nothing’s wrong- I just- I bought myself something, and I’m… nervous? I don’t know if you’ll like it.” 

Zitao’s hand finds Sehun’s other one, the one that he’s not currently biting the nails off of. 

“I like everything you do,” Zitao says, bringing out the tone he uses when Sehun feels extra unsure about something. 

“I know you do,” Sehun sighs, and the nervousness is steadily dissipating. Sehun steels himself. “I don’t even know why I’m so nervous. It’s not really something that’s completely out of nowhere.”

“It’s clothing?”, Zitao asks softly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Go put it on. And don’t be nervous.” 

Sehun opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it and nods, letting go of Zitao’s hand to make his way over to their walk-in closet to change. 

Zitao leans back in his chair. He isn’t worried, though for someone as shameless as Sehun normally is, he seems pretty nervous. Zitao has, from all the talking he’s done with Sehun, managed to draw the conclusion that it’s probably lingerie, considering it’s clothing that Sehun’s being so shy about.

Sehun’s no stranger to lingerie though, so the nervousness seems a bit strange. Maybe it’s like what he did for Zitao’s birthday. That red leather set still shows up in Zitao’s dreams. 

So, Zitao, leaning back in their armchair, waiting for Sehun to emerge from the closet isn’t exactly expecting a big surprise. Some risque lingerie, maybe a collar if he’s lucky. A good time for him, something his dick is definitely taking interest in, but nothing too shocking. 

Then, Sehun walks out in a dress. 

Zitao chokes on the breath he was taking, and stares in silence at Sehun, barely able to breathe. 

“You-” 

“I saw this, and it was so pretty, and I know you like pretty things on me, and I like pretty things on me, so I tried it on and- I just bought it? I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I know you’ve worn one of these before, but like, it’s just that I don’t know if you’d like this? Like me, I mean, in a dress. Yeah, so I just- yeah…”

Sehun trails off as Zitao continues to stare at him. It’s not that Zitao intends on the silence that befalls them, it’s just that speaking is marginally harder when you can’t breathe. 

The dress is red, flowy in a way that most material isn’t. Sehun’s waist looks especially tiny amidst the fabric, and- Zitao almost chokes again when he notices this- there are slits running up both sides,  _ and Sehun’s legs are shaved _ .

“Do you not like it?”, Sehun asks, and it’s whispered out unsurely. Zitao notices the blush across Sehun’s face. 

He clears his throat. 

“Turn around,” he rasps out. He wonders if Sehun knows exactly what this is doing to him. 

Sehun’s blush deepens, and a smile breaks out on his face as he realises that Zitao does, indeed, like the dress. Zitao would usually take the time to etch that smile into his memory, but right now he’s too busy staring at Sehun’s legs. They’re long and smooth and pretty and Zitao is about to go  _ insane _ .

Sehun turns, slowly, letting Zitao see the way the fabric moves around him, and the moles on Sehun’s back that the dress exposes. When Sehun faces Zitao again, Zitao’s eyes are a lot more hungry. 

“Come here,” and it seems that raspy commands are all Zitao can really manage when Sehun looks the way he currently does. Sehun moves towards the chair he’s in, and Zitao has to hold a moan back at the way Sehun’s legs show through the dress. 

Sehun’s smiling down at him, hand reaching out to rest on Zitao’s shoulder. 

“You like it?”, he asks, but the previous shyness has disappeared, leaving only an air of smugness around his words. 

Zitao is  _ so  _ going to take him down a notch. 

He elects to ignore Sehun’s question, instead reaching out to slip his hand into the slit of the dress, hand clasping around the lower end of Sehun’s thigh, a little above his knee. 

“You shaved?”, Zitao asks, almost conversationally, his breath having successfully been caught. Sehun likes having shaved legs, but that doesn’t mean Zitao doesn’t marvel over them every time he shaves them. 

Sehun nods as Zitao looks up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“I had time today so I-” 

He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath as Zitao squeezes his thigh. 

“The dress,” Zitao says, slowly, deliberately. “Looks perfect on you.” 

He shifts his hand higher. 

Sehun’s grip on Zitao’s shoulder tightens. 

“Zitao-”, he starts, before Zitao’s hand squeezes the uppermost part of his thigh. Sehun’s mouth falls open, and his eyes close. His breath hitches, just slightly. 

“You know,” Zitao says, as his hand starts to stroke the inside of Sehun’s thigh, his arm draped with the red material of Sehun’s dress. “I don’t talk about your legs nearly enough.” 

Sehun’s too busy gripping onto Zitao and trying not to moan, so he continues. 

“Look at them. All soft and smooth. So easy to just…  _ grab. _ ”

At that, Zitao ceases his stroking, letting his hand travel even further up to close around Sehun’s boxer clad, already hard dick. Sehun lets out the moan he’s been holding back, nails digging into Zitao’s shoulder. 

He starts to move, as if trying to settle into Zitao’s lap, but then Zitao stands. His hand stays where it is, and Sehun’s eyes remain half-shut. 

“Ah,” Zitao says, noticing Sehun’s state. “Look at you. Already so worked up, and I’ve barely touched you.” 

“Zitao,” Sehun mumbles, attempting to find words. He seems to have no luck in that avenue, so he decides to simply kiss Zitao instead. 

Zitao allows the hand on Sehun’s crotch to join his other one on Sehun’s waist, using the kiss as an opportunity to push Sehun forward until his knees catch on the edge of the bed and they both go down. 

Zitao rolls off Sehun, letting him properly bring himself up on the bed.

Sehun shudders out a breath as Zitao climbs back over him, this time sans shoes. The look in his eyes is hungry, and Sehun is already thanking himself for buying the dress. 

“Bought anything else?”, Zitao huffs out, attempting to sound conversational as he leans down to mouth at Sehun’s neck. 

Sehun’s breath hitches as he brings his hand up to hold Zitao in place. He wants marks. 

“Shoes. You need a new pair for work.” 

Zitao moans softly against Sehun’s neck. 

“You’re so thoughtful,” he whispers, hand going up Sehun’s dress to rest on his thigh. “It’s so hot.” 

Sehun blinks, trying to focus on what Zitao’s saying instead of his hands and his lips and  _ him _ . 

“It is?” 

“Mmhmm,” Zitao hums, nibbling slightly at the skin of Sehun’s neck, before finally straightening, looking down at Sehun. “Everything you do is hot.” 

Sehun is 100% sure that that’s not true, because he’s done some very unattractive things around Zitao, especially during mornings pre-coffee. He doesn’t have the chance to say that though, because then Zitao’s pulling his underwear off, leaving Sehun with a visible boner in the fabric of his dress.

“I’m going to  _ ruin  _ you, Hunnie,” Zitao says, like he’s just announced that he’s going to get groceries.

Sehun can’t help but let out a soft whimper at that, all the heat rushing from his face to his dick. 

He starts to move to take the dress off, but Zitao collects his wrists with one hand and pins them down. It’s clear; the dress stays on.

“Zitao,” Sehun gasps out, as Zitao wastes no time in diving between his legs to kiss up Sehun’s thighs. “The dress is new. It’ll- ah, fuck-it’ll get dirty.”

Zitao emerges from inside the dress, and the look on his face sends a shiver down Sehun’s spine. 

“I’ll get it dry cleaned,” Zitao says, and fuck, he’s never sounded more turned on in the whole time they’ve been together. “I’ll buy you another, I’ll buy you all the dresses you want.” 

Sehun moans, partly because Zitao sounds so hot when he’s turned on, and partly because the second he was done with his sentence, he dove right back under the dress. He bites his lip as Zitao nibbles at his sensitive inner thigh. Sehun didn’t think it was possible to harder than he was, but here he is.

Zitao continues like that for a while, teasingly nipping at the skin, marking Sehun up with his hands and his mouth. It doesn’t take long till Sehun starts getting desperate, torn between wanting to squeeze his thighs together or spread his legs as wide as they’ll go. 

“Please,” he gasps out, as Zitao moves his hands to Sehun’s ass to squeeze it. “Zitao, please, I- don’t tease, please.” 

Zitao stops then, leaving Sehun’s thighs marked and his dick hard. He pushes Sehun’s dress up, so that the material bunches around Sehun’s chest. 

Zitao smiles at him, sweetly, almost out of place in the lust that hangs in the room. He leans down, and Sehun thinks he’s reaching for the lube in their bedside drawer, but he instead, his lips meet Sehun’s ear.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

That whisper manages to make Sehun’s mouth and his legs fall open at the same time. Sehun clutches the sheets, and Zitao moves back down to his thighs. Sehun whines as Zitao’s lips come in contact with the sensitive skin that precedes an even more sensitive area. 

It gets to a point where Sehun is whining, begging Zitao to stop and fuck him, but Zitao carries on, sucking on Sehun’s thighs like he was made to do just that. It seems like forever for Sehun before Zitao actually does stop, straightening and looking down at him. 

Sehun struggles to maintain eye contact, hair in his face and sweat starting to cling to his forehead. 

“You know,” Zitao starts. “Seeing you, I have half a mind to keep you like this, all pretty and spread out for me.” 

Sehun lets out a quiet moan, before searching for Zitao’s hand to hold. He finds it, and clasps it like it’s a lifeline. 

“Please,” he whispers, trying to look as pitiful as possible. He knows Zitao’s into that. “Just- fuck me, please, I need it, I need you.” 

Zitao considers him for a second, eyes hungry and smirk on his face. 

“Fine,” he says, after a few moments of Sehun looking up at him with the most innocently slutty eyes he could manage. “But you’ll have to ask nicely.” 

Sehun looks at him, as if to ask if he’s serious, but one glance at Zitao’s face tells him that he is. How is he going to get nicer than begging?

He opens his mouth, then closes it, think for a second, and tries again. 

“Please,” he mumbles, and then stops, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

“Please what, Hun-ah?”, Zitao asks, and thankfully it seems like he’s willing to guide Sehun through this, so Sehun relaxes. 

“Please, I really- I want you.” 

“Want me to do what?” 

Sehun stares up at Zitao. It’s embarrassing, but the kind of embarrassing that makes him feel hot and bothered, and he  _ likes  _ it. 

“Fuck me,” he says, the words slipping out unbidden. “Oh god, Zitao, please, just fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” 

“That’s why you bought the dress, didn’t you?”, Zitao asks, and his hand removes itself from Sehun’s and reaches out to gently stroke Sehun’s dick and holy shit Sehun is  _ fucked. _ Sehun wants nothing more than to just lay back and let Zitao do whatever he wants to him, but Zitao wants an answer, so Sehun needs to give him one. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Sehun gasps out, almost sobbing, just from the almost unnoticeable stimulation Zitao’s giving him. “Yes, oh my god, yes, I- I wanted you to think I looked good and I wanted you to- fuck, Zitao,  _ please. _ ”

“You wanted me to?” 

Zitao asks him to continue lazily, as if Sehun isn’t desperately writhing under his fingers. 

“I wanted you to make me feel good,  _ please,  _ Zitao, make me feel  _ good _ .” 

Zitao gives Sehun’s dick one final stroke before stopping, and Sehun is about to  _ combust _ when Zitao reaches over him to open their bedside drawer. 

“Okay,” he says, just like that, as his fingers close around their tube of lube. “Relax, Hun-ah. I’ll make you feel good.” 

Sehun lets his head fall back, relieved and excited at the same time. 

“We need more lube,” Zitao announces, right after Sehun hears the click of the cap. 

“I’ll pick some up tomorrow,” Sehun whispers, eyes closed. 

Zitao laughs, before sliding over Sehun and propping himself up on his forearm so that they’re face to face. 

“You sound so wrecked,” he says, as Sehun opens his eyes to look at him. Sehun opens his mouth to tell Zitao exactly whose fault that is, but then Zitao’s sliding a finger into him, and all thoughts are forgotten. 

Sehun keens, and Zitao smirks down at him. Zitao gives him a second to adjust, and Sehun takes the opportunity to wipe that smirk off his face, by kissing him fervently. Zitao lets out a muffled groan into the kiss, before kissing back just as enthusiastically, and starting to fuck Sehun with his finger. 

They stay like that for a while, Zitao fucking Sehun while they kiss the life out of each other, until Sehun pulls away. 

“Another,” Sehun says. Zitao tilts his head at him, continuing to use just one finger. Sehun swallows. 

“Please?” 

Immediately, Zitao slips in another. This time he doesn’t wait, and starts moving them instantly, scissoring and curling them to stretch Sehun. He knows what Sehun can handle, so he isn’t worried about hurting him. 

Sehun moans a lot more freely now, stretched and ready and feeling every inch of Zitao’s long, rough fingers inside him. Zitao crooks them a certain way and manages to hit the spot that causes Sehun to see blinding white and arch his back in pleasure. 

“Fuck me,” Sehun whimpers, as Zitao continues to rub against the spot he’s found. “Please, Zitao- god, please, I’m ready, I’m ready, fuck me.” 

It turns into a chant of sorts, Sehun sobbing out that he’s ready for Zitao to fuck him. 

Sehun almost cries in anticipation when Zitao removes his fingers, but then he’s ready to cry for a completely different reason when Zitao gets off the bed. 

“Where are you going?”, he asks, voice high and broken, trying to keep himself from sounding even more desperate than he already is. 

“I can’t fuck you with my clothes on, Hun-ah,” Zitao says, and Sehun can  _ hear  _ the smug smile in his voice. “Just give me a minute.” 

“Can I touch myself?”, Sehun asks, but it’s more like he’s begging, because his dick is painfully hard, and he needs this. 

There’s silence, as if Zitao is considering him while unbuttoning his trousers. 

“Hmm,” Zitao hums. “As much as I appreciate you asking for permission, no. You can wait.” 

Sehun chokes back a sob, and tries to keep himself from jutting his hips in the air.

“Just a second, Hun-ah,” Zitao breathes out, and his voice is softer now. “Wait for just a second.” 

It takes another half a minute before Zitao is hovering over Sehun, this time divest of clothing, smiling down at him. 

“Told you it’d only be a short while,” he says, and Sehun is about to  _ cry _ , but then Zitao’s pulling him forward and pushing his legs in, and then he’s sliding in,  _ finally.  _

“ _ Yes _ ,” Sehun hisses. The stretch is a bit too much, Zitao’s dick being a lot thicker than his fingers, but Sehun takes it well. He’s had practice.

Zitao still pauses though, waits till Sehun’s caught his bearings, before he starts thrusting, hard and powerful. 

Sehun gulps as he’s pushed further into the bed with each thrust, before letting out a string of broken moans, mixed with “ _ Zitao please, please, please.”  _

Sehun can feel each drag of Zitao inside him, and he loves it, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take. 

“Zitao- fuck, fuck, Zitao, I’m- I’m close.”

Zitao laughs, but it’s a bit broken.

“Already? You  _ are _ eager.” 

Sehun whines, and starts pushing back against Zitao’s thrust, swiveling to try and get Zitao to hit that spot. 

Zitao places a hand on his waist, pinning him down, fingers reaching to play with his dress. He pulls out, angles himself, and starts fucking into Sehun again, this time perfectly placed to hit Sehun’s prostrate. 

Sehun moans, high, scratchy, and then Zitaos hand is closing around his dick again, and Sehun’s close to sobbing.

“Don’t stop,” he begs, as his hips try to arch to fuck into Zitao’s hand and to push back against Zitao’s thrusts into him at the same time. “God, don’t stop, I’m begging you.”

Zitao doesn’t stop. He keeps a steady pace, thrusting into Sehun and jerk his hand at the same time, until Sehun calls out his name and cums, spilling over Zitao’s hand, and the dress that seemingly slipped down from his chest.

Zitao fucks Sehun through his orgasm, enjoying the way Sehun clenches around him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, as Sehun stops convulsing. “You’re so perfect, Hun-ah.” 

Sehun whines, and Zitao pulls out, starting to jerk himself off, clumsy fingers as he looks at the mess Sehun is on the bed, fucked out and covered in cum.

It doesn’t take long before Zitao’s close, and he’s about to cum in his hand before Sehun starts.

“Here,” he gasps out, almost incoherent. “Cum here. Cum on me, Zitao, not on your hand, cum on me.” 

Zitao obliges, and it’s not long before Sehun’s waist and dress are stained, accompanied by a low, heady grown from Zitao.

Zitao sighs, and then crawls over to where Sehun is, lying down and letting Sehun rest his head on his chest. 

They’re both breathing heavily, coming down from the high, but they’re both smiling softly too, content in just holding each other.

“Sorry we ruined your dress,” Zitao mumbles.

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash out. Or dry clean out. I don’t know how dresses work.”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll seriously buy you more. You have no fucking idea how hot you looked in that thing.”

Sehun looks up at Zitao.

“Maybe next time you can wear one too.”

Zitao considers him, and his hand starts to rake through Sehun’s hair.

“Sounds like a plan.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I’ll put links here later but for now I hope you enjoyed also please forgive typos I wrote this on my phone while on vacation. have a good decade!


End file.
